


A Helping Hand

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-05
Updated: 2011-03-05
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:26:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1782298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco needs some motivation to weather the rough times ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Daily Deviant's March 2011 challenge. 
> 
> **Content/Warnings:** Rimming, Anal.
> 
> **Author's Notes:** Thanks to Sevfan for the beta-reading assistance.

~

A Helping Hand

~

When the Aurors came for Draco, he didn’t put up a fight. The war had drained him of everything. Hope, a future, and now it appeared it would even take away his freedom. There was a part of him that thought he deserved that fate.

To his surprise, however, they didn’t immediately put him in Azkaban to await trial, they put him under house arrest, a tracking spell attached to him to prevent him being able to flee. “A flight risk,” the prosecuting barrister had insisted, and it had taken all Draco had not to laugh. Where did he have to go?

His father and mother were both in Azkaban awaiting their trial. Someone had decided that allowing all the Malfoys to be in the same place would result in them plotting a way out. _Obviously they haven’t seen us lately._

Morose, Draco roamed the Manor, spending the majority of his time reading or, more often, staring out the window at the neglected grounds. 

When he heard someone pounding on the front door the night before his Wizengamot trial, Draco ignored it. The elves now served the house, not the family; Draco’d had to learn how to fend for himself in the kitchen, so it was unlikely that anyone would let the visitor in. He shrugged, unconcerned. One thing he had learned was that Aurors didn’t knock. 

“Draco! I know you’re there! Let me in, damn you!” 

_Blaise_? His apathy lifting for a moment, Draco walked down the stairs, approaching the door. “Why are you here?”

“Let me in and I’ll tell you.” 

Rolling his eyes, Draco, nevertheless, opened the door, thus triggering the wards to allow Blaise inside. “You shouldn’t be here.” 

Smirking, Blaise pushed past him. “There is no rule that says you can’t have visitors while under house arrest. I checked.” 

Draco sighed. Closing the door, he turned towards the stairs. “Fine, then why are you here?” A moment later he cried out as he was abruptly shoved against the wall, Blaise’s arms bracketing him. “What the--?”

“Snap out of it,” Blaise whispered, face close to Draco’s. “You have a trial tomorrow. You need to be on your game.” 

“How can anything I do make any difference?” Draco hissed, suddenly angry. “They decided I’m guilty weeks ago. They just need a scapegoat, and who better than the son of two Death Eaters who harboured the most evil Dark wizard in three generations in their home?”

“That’s garbage,” Blaise replied, his tone equally as intense. “You know I’m the last one to sugarcoat things, but you have sodding _Potter_ on your side.” 

“We’ll see.” Draco looked away from Blaise’s flashing eyes, unwilling to let himself hope that Potter really would come to his rescue. “I’m not holding my breath.” 

“No, instead you’ve given up.” Blaise sighed and leaned in. “You need to show that you have the will to live, Draco. If it looks like you’ve already given up, then they’ve already won.” 

Draco shook his head. “Don’t you see? They have!” Holding out his left arm, he pulled up his sleeve displaying his faded Mark. “As long as I have this no one will want to help me.” 

“I want to help you,” Blaise murmured. “Have you forgotten already? You’re never alone. We’re always with you.” 

“Where’s Pansy, then?” Draco tried to throw Blaise off, huffing as Blaise easily held him.

“She has her own issues at the moment.” Blaise nuzzled Draco’s jaw. “But you need me more than she does right now.”

A sob slipped from Draco’s lips. “You can’t--”

“I can and I am.” Drawing away, Blaise pulled Draco towards him. “Come on, it’s been ages since I’ve seen your room.” 

Once upstairs, Draco’s footsteps slowed. “My bedroom’s a bit of a mess at the moment--”

“Draco.” Blaise spun him towards him. “Guess what? I lied. I’m not really interested in seeing your room.” He smirked. “It was all a ploy to get into your pants.” 

Smiling despite himself, Draco shook his head. “Git.” 

“And yet you adore me.” Blaise dragged Draco through the door, ignoring the untidy piles of clothes next to the bed. “And I adore you, too. Come, let me remind you how much since you seem to have forgotten.” 

Manoeuvred onto the bed, Draco sighed as Blaise took his time, stripping him slowly, caressing each inch of skin that was revealed, laving kisses on his shoulders, his arm, the inner elbow. “Missed you,” Blaise whispered against his skin, making Draco whimper. “So much.” 

Draco had missed Blaise and Pansy, too. The war had separated them, the last few months of keeping his head low and avoiding drawing all attention to himself had ended up isolating Draco from everyone, especially his closest friends. No one had really touched him in all that time. Arching up in response to Blaise’s tongue, Draco finally allowed himself to _feel_ for the first time in months. 

“I’m here,” Blaise said against Draco’s skin, as if sensing his thoughts. “You’re safe, love. I’ve got you. You can let go.”

Exhaling, Draco did. He closed his eyes and let himself feel every touch, each swipe of Blaise’s tongue against his skin, each press of fingers. 

When Blaise turned him over, Draco pushed his face into the pillow, fisted the sheets, and spread his legs. It had been so long, would Blaise even remember...? As he felt the tingle of a cleansing spell and the first touch of Blaise’s fingertip, Draco groaned. 

“You thought I forgot how much you love this, didn’t you?” Blaise murmured. “But I could never forget, Draco.” He chuckled, tone dark. “Never.”

_No, he hasn’t forgotten anything_ , Draco thought hazily as a knowing tongue brushed his arsehole. _Not a bloody thing._

As Blaise’s tongue circled then nudged inside his hole, Draco humped the bed, doing his best not to come embarrassingly early. He was harder than he could remember being in a while, even wanking had held no appeal given the bleak future looming over his head. But Blaise’s touch seemed to reawaken his libido and soon Draco was pushing back against Blaise’s tongue, encouraged by Blaise, who was now stabbing into him with his tongue. 

When Blaise drew back, Draco groaned in disappointment. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not done,” Blaise said. One whispered lubrication spell later, and Blaise had two digits deep inside Draco, who was writhing, trying to ride those agile fingers. “So eager.” 

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” Draco demanded, lifting his head from his pillow. 

“Oh, I think you know the answer to that.” As he spoke, Blaise slipped a third finger into Draco. “You’re almost ready.” 

“Hurry up!” Draco gasped. “I want to come!” 

Blaise laughed breathily, his fingers twisting. “Merlin, I forgot how demanding you are.” 

“Will you just--” Draco shuddered as Blaise found his prostate. “Yes, there!” 

“I know, love,” Blaise crooned, grasping Draco’s hips to position himself. “I’ve got you.” 

And he did. Draco closed his eyes, exhaling and pushing back as Blaise’s lubricated cock pierced him. The burn of penetration helped him stave off his impending orgasm and, rocking back, he met Blaise thrust for thrust.

“Bring yourself off,” Blaise whispered, speeding up. “Come for me, Draco.” 

Reaching between his legs, Draco began tugging his cock in counterpoint to Blaise’s measured thrusts. It didn’t take long before his body was shaking and he was coming with a shout, his muscles clenching down on Blaise, who had lost his rhythm and was slamming into Draco. 

Draco spurted onto the bed, his gaze going dark for a moment as pleasure overtook him. 

When next he opened his eyes, he was resting on Blaise’s chest, being cradled in his arms, the sheets were clean and soft against his skin, and he could hear Blaise’s heart thrumming its reassuring beat beneath his ear. “Welcome back,” Blaise said. “Feeling better?”

_You know the answer to that._ Draco smiled. “Yes, in fact.” 

“Good.” Reaching for his wand, Blaise put out the lights. “Now let’s get some sleep. You need to be fresh for tomorrow.” 

~

Draco held himself steady as he waited for the verdict. To his shock, Potter had come through, showing up for his trial and testifying very eloquently on his behalf. Draco wasn’t sure it would make much of a difference to the Wizengamot, but he was grateful for the effort. 

He could feel Blaise’s eyes on him but he refused to look at him in the viewers’ gallery. If the night they’d just had together was to be their last, Draco wanted to remember Blaise smiling at him, not pitying him.

“We have reached a verdict,” declared the chief magistrate, an old woman Draco could recall his father trying to bribe. Unsuccessfully. 

_God I hope she doesn’t remember that._

“On the charge of collusion with the Dark wizard known as Voldemort, we find Draco Malfoy not guilty on all counts.” 

Gobsmacked, Draco stared up at her. The magistrate raised an eyebrow. “On the charge of harbouring the Dark wizard known as Voldemort, we find Draco Malfoy guilty, but because of his age and extenuating circumstances, his sentence is commuted to one hundred hours of community service, to be spent rebuilding Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The details of your service shall be determined by the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall.” She smiled. “You have a chance to redeem your family name, Mr Malfoy, see that you utilise it. You are dismissed.” 

Draco nodded, warmth flooding him as he realised that he was free. All around him people were murmuring, his defence barrister clapping him on the back, but all Draco could think was how badly he wished Blaise was next to him. 

“I’m here.” 

Startled, Draco looked to his side only to find Blaise there, his hand on Draco’s arm. “I’m free,” he whispered, still trying out the words on his tongue.

“You are,” Blaise agreed. 

“Congratulations, Malfoy.” Potter held out his hand and, feeling as if he’d stepped into an alternate universe, Draco grasped it and shook it firmly. “I’ll be spending some time rebuilding Hogwarts, too, so I’ll probably see you there.” 

As Potter walked away, Blaise leaned in. “Just remember who you belong with, Draco. I don’t want to hear about you being distracted by any Gryffindors.” 

Mouth falling open, Draco glared at Blaise. “As if.” 

Blaise smirked. “So, now that you’ve been acquitted, what are your plans?” 

“No idea.” Draco turned to face Blaise. “What do you suggest?” 

Blaise pursed his lips. “Pansy’s trial is tomorrow. I think she may need a bit of cheering up, especially since Potter isn’t testifying on her behalf.” He gestured towards the door. “Shall we?” 

Smiling, Draco nodded, linking arms with Blaise. “Most definitely.”

~

Fin


End file.
